Anonymous
by Liese13
Summary: When White Collar Unit receives a letter which informs about the plans of a notorious smuggler, the team is unsure about it's credibility. Peter and Neal have to learn that they can only trust each other after all. Some Neal & Peter whumpage lateron.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, this is my very first White Collar ff. As I am not a native speaker I really hope that you'll find the language and grammar okay. If you find very bad mistakes or have any complaints concerning my english, go ahead and tell my and I will consider working with a beta-reader ;-) But I really hope I did the translation well because it took me a lot of time after all...**

**I would also love to read many reviews by you guys :-)  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar and it's characters, nor do I earn any money with this story.**

Neal Caffrey walked up the stairs to the two-story house of the Burkes and glanced carefully through a window. No doubt, there were still lights switched on on the ground floor. With a slightly smugly face he began messing around on the door with some of his special tools and short after he was standing in the house he had become so familiar with during the last months.

He'd been out with Moz for a late dinner nearby and had after a good glas of wine decided to visit his friend and partner Peter to see how he was doing. The two of them hadn't been on a case together for some time now and it seemed like the listnessness and lethargy typical for the cold and rainy november had also devolved on the criminals. Maybe it was due to the season that Neal felt lonely these days, a feeling he wasn't used to. Even though he didn't want to commit it, he knew that he was missing the work and hustle at the FBI.

Now he was standing in the Burke's hallway and crept to the direction of the dining-/livingroom from which he could see a dim light shining out. Neal was curious if he could surprise Peter. In a nearly childish pleasant anticipation he slid open the door and found his partner sound asleep. Neal was a bit diappointed even if not very surprised since the agent was the only person he knew that could fall asleep sitting on a chair. Peter sat at the dining table, a pile of paperwork in front of him, next to a black laptop which seemed to be in stand-by mode already. The man seemed to be asleep for a while already. He had slipped far down on the chair and sunk down. Neal wondered what made the documents interesting enough for Peter to deal with them after work.

He tiptoed around the sleeping man and peeked over his shoulder onto the sheet lying on top of the pile. As far as he could make out it was a list with several vouchers for flights throughout most parts of Europe: London, Rome, Athena, Hamburg, Lisbon, Madrid and Bern. Impressive, especially because all flights happened within three months. Could these infomation maybe lead to a new case for the FBI in which he could join Peter and the team again? Neal caught himself hoping for it with all his heart. He tiptoed back until he stood between hallway and living room again to look as if he'd just stepped in and said aloud and sarcastically: „I always find it impressive how hard you FBI guys have to work!" Peter startled heavily and nearly fell down the chair as he opened his eyes and stared around in shock. His sleepy and a bit puffy eyes finally found Neal. His face turned in a relieved, angry and confused expression. „Caffrey? What the hell are you doing here? How'd you get in?" he asked with a hoarse voice. „Through the door...you know what I mean..." Neal gave him a telling look. „Neal, I told you not to do this all the time. You could have just rang the bell you know?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews so far and have fun with the second chapter. I started seeking for a beta-reader but this may take some time...I hope my writing is good enough for you until I find someone ;-)**

Normaly Neal would have had to stand a blast because of the „break-in" but the young man recognized that his partner was too tired and dazed at the moment. „I didn't want to wake up Elizabeth." he answered and it was the truth. „She's not here..." said Peter brushing through his short hair with the left hand. „She'll have a free day tomorrow and went out with a friend...anyhow..." he rubbed his eyes and took the paperpile. „I'm glad you woke me 'cause I have to look through this until tomorrow, otherwise I'll be unprepared at work and not make any progress...again."

Neal grinned. „_Until tomorrow? _What to you think how late it is?" Peter glanced out the window into the darkness, then at his watch and had to realize that it was far beyond midnight. „Dammit!" he shouted frustrated. „Will you tell me on what you're working right now?" Neal wanted to know eagerly. „Yeah...I wanted to call you in for this anyway the next days or so. We could need you help. It's a smuggler, dealing with rare arfifacts. He's called Edward Maddock and is messing around for quite a while now with agencys in several countries searching for him. But he always slipped away. Only two days ago a secret informant let us know that Maddock is going to come to New York to sell some of his items...but have a look for yourself. I can't go on reading this, my eyes are burning like hell...I never worked on a case before that's producing so much paperwork. Tracing him down nearly seems to be impossible." Peter stood up and offered Neal his chair. „Hm strange, I never heard of this guy...I'll look through this. Why don't you go to bed, Peter. You're looking pretty worn out." „Oh no, Neal I won't let you down here alone and unobserved. I'll stay right here on the coach to hear what you'll have to say. And wait for El..." he glanced at his watch and looked worried. „She should already be here by now..." „Ah, I'm sure she's just having a good time. You worry too much, not everyone out there is a criminal." „How soothing to hear that from you." came the ironic reply as Peter stretched out on the coach. Satchmo plodded towards him to be pet. Meanwhile Neal delved into the papers.

About an hour passed while he was reading until also his eyes began to burn in fatigue. Neal had to find out that Maddock was suspected of many crimes but none of them could be proved. Everytime a team in the USA or Europe had overtaken a building in which he was said to trade his antiques to take him down he was long gone. No one could really imagine how he kept escaping the law for such a long time. Neal leaned back in his chair and started thinking about what kind of man that smuggler could be. Referring to his record he was born in Michigan as the only son of rich parents, went to college and became a criminal for some reason when he was around 20. But how did he manage to stay one step ahead of the authorities since then? Perhaps he posessed several IDs and a huge network of accomplices who provided the local agencies with false information about his trading plans. That was at least what Neal himself would try to do. Which tactic however he used Maddock had to be a very powerful and influentially man that knew Neal for certain.

Without making any noise he stood up and went to the nearby sideboard to pour himself a nice glass of wine. Even though Peter did not really enjoy that beverage Neal knew that Elizabeth always kept a few bottles in the house for herself. The low snoring in the absolut silence that reigned the rest of the house let him know that Peter was sound asleep again. As was Satchmo. Neal considered waking his partner but then decided not to since there were only few hours left until he had to get up again for work. With his glass of wine he sat down again, deep in thoughts.

Around 2pm he heard a car driving by and stopping near the house. Shortly after the door opened and Elizabeth stepped in. „Hi El!" he called because he didn't want to scare her. Chuckling she somehow made her way in the room, Neal noticed that she was staggering a little. „Hi Neal!" she approached to him and hugged him warmly.

She didn't seem to be surprised at all seeing him sitting in their living-room. The strong scent of alcohol which Neal immediately realised explained that fact. She seemed to have had a nice evening. „I joined Peter to help him out with a new case..." he explained himself. „Where's Pete?" Neal pointed to the couch and watched her going to her husband . „He's been working too long again, hasn't he? If he goes on that way he'll propably get burn-out syndrom or something like that one day." she complained worried. „Don't worry, Peter can handle that." She woke her husband with a tender kiss on the forehead. „Wake up, Honey. Time for bed." As Neal watched the scene he felt a light sting. Was it jealousy? Peter began to move grumbling and sat himself up yawning. „El?" he gave her a kiss. „I hope you enjoyed the evening?" „It was great!" she answered smiling. „But I'm really tired...come on." She took him by the hand and started guiding him through the room towards the stairs like a little child. „I guess I'll leave now..." called Neal who felt a bit superflous. „Yeah, see you at 7, I'll pick you up!" came Peter's answer right before the couple moved out of sight and Neal made his way home.


	3. Chapter 3

Just a few hours later Peter pounded his hand on the Ford's horn in impatience. He was already running late for work and to crown it he had gotten himself right into rushhour. On the detour he had to take to pick Neal up was a hell of traffic on this wednesday morning. It wasn't possible to drive any faster than walking-speed. He felt completely exhausted. First he had overslept and finally got out of bed with a jealous glance on his beautiful sleeping wife. Now he was sitting in the car with wet hair because after showering he had only time to eat a banana on his way out. He normally loved a nice breakfast but with Elizabeth sleeping it wasn't the same anyway.

While driving through the big apple morning traffic Peter considered whether he should take part in the seminar for time-management which would be offered the next week at the office. He couldn't just do overtime nearly every day of the week, then take some files with him home and lateron fall asleep after 20 minutes of watching a film together with Elizabeth. Peter really wanted to spend more time with her also because he had the feeling that she was already beginning to get used to his absence. He missed her already in the mornings at the office.

Noisy sirens finally interupted his thoughts and told him that an accident must have caused the traffic jam. Terrified he recognised the ambulance car approaching fast behind him on his lane. Stressed he searched for some place to evade it and drove the car clattering on a gras verge.

Around half past 7 he finally parked the Ford in front of June's. Neal, who'd already been waiting there joined him in the car.

„Good morning, Peter!" he said with a bright smile. „Morning." he grumbled back. „Had a good night?" „Not really...Elizabeth tends to snore when she's drunk. It was horrible." „Oh...but I guess this will cheer you up a bit." Peter heard something like a screw top beeing opened and suddenly smelled a delicious scent.

„Is that?" „Yeah, June's Espresso. Italian Roast." Neal answered and poured some in the cup of the bottle for him while Peter started the engines. „Thanks." he said honestly as he took a sip of the strong dark drink. „You're my lifesaver for today." He was wondering what might have caused that friendly and obliging behaviour of the con, until a notion crossed his mind.

„Neal, what do you want me to do for you?" he asked suspiciously. The young man looked at him in obvious bewilderment. „What are you talking about?" „Ah, nevermind." Peter tried to act as if nothing had happened but as the con was very clever he wised him and was immediately offended. „Still you don't trust me, Peter? Why should I try to cheat on you or bribe you...with coffee? I just thought the day would move easier with you beeing in a better mood."

He continued talking Peter into that matter while he already felt guilty against his will. He asked himself why he seeked for a hidden meaning behind Neal's friendly gesture. At least the traffic jam had cleared up and when he finally drove the Ford on the parking lane they were only about 10 minutes late.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi there, sorry for the long pause...it had somehow to do with me beeing very busy and seeking for a beta-reader. I found one now but I don't really know how long it will take until everything is ready. Anyway I didn't want you guys to keep waiting so long for the next chapter and so this is (I guess) the last one without beta-reading ;-) I hope you'll enjoy it anyway (and don't forget to leave some reviews ;-))**

With the con punishing him with silence Peter walked into the office in a haste and climbed the stairs to his room without minding the young man. On his way upstairs he met Jones.

„Morning, Boss" he greeted holding a folder in his hand. Peter tried to not let this tiredness show as he replied: „Morning Clinton, any news about Maddock?" „Well, yeah, our infomant sent us another message, came in just this morning. He's giving us information about when and where one of Maddocks auctions will be held. It seem to be smuggled objects from south-America. Letter is already on your desk." „Still without a hint on the informant's identity?" „No, sir and again no fingerprints or else." Peter sighed heavily. „Fine, thanks Clinton, I'll have a look at it."

He entered his office and threw himself in his chair. Neal had followed him and taken a seat near the door where he sat with arms crossed before his chest. The agent couldn't stand the silence any longer. „Alright Neal, I'm sorry for what I said in the car, it was stupid and I had no right to say it. And thanks again for the coffee." He poured some of it in his mug. But the con continued to remain silent. „Ok, just inform me when you are willing to talk to me again..." he said a bit pissed about the childish behaviour his partner showed.

He decided to finally concentrate on work and took the envelope sitting on his desk. Just like the first letter which was sent to his division some days ago it was adressed with: FBI – White Collar unit. The precise adress was missing, as was a stamp and Peter knew that the envelope must have been thrown directly in the building's mail box. He pulled the folded sheet of paper out of the envelop and read the short computer-written text. It briefly informed about the date (which was the 12 December), the time (06:15 pm) and the place where the auction would take place. In addition there was a remark that stolen and very rare artifacts from Brazil and Mexico were about to be sold. Peter took another sip of coffee and glanced at the adress again. It seemed to be familiar to him.

It took him only a few seconds of research on the internet until he found his suspicion confirmed. The auction was about to take place in a famous and old building. A selling of illegal artifacts in a common auction place? Either Maddock was very inept (which Peter doubted) or very naive or just very bold. An important question was whether the participants of that auction knew that the artifacts were ill-gotten. But Peter was suspicious because of the fact that the informant didn't reveal his identity. How could he know that these information was trusty?

The agent stood up and opened the door to his office. „Jones?" „Yes, Boss?" came the answer from somewhere beneath. „I want you to check the tapes of the suveillance cams outside the building. The one on which you can see the mail box. Maybe we can get a glimpse of the anonymous informant." „Done!"

When Peter returned to his office he found to his surprise Neal sitting on the chair behind his desk. He was holding the letter very close in front of the eyes and stared at it in concentration. „May I ask what you are doing there?" he asked impatiently. „Just looking..." came the short answer. „By the way you are sitting on MY chair!" Peter mocked with raised voice but the younger man only held his pointer finger up to silence him. „You don't show me the finger my friend!" Peter said now angry but then kept still and watched how Neal switched on the desk lamp and held the sheet against the light.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm sorry that this one took me that long but for some reason the beta reader I was corresponding with doesn't write me anymore. So if you know a fast and reliable beta reader it would be a great help for me if you'd sent me a message.**

**Anyways I'll just go on with the story and would be very pleased to read some reviews, this could speed up the kind of strenuous translating-progress and give me some more motivation :-)**

„This letter was most likely printed in a copy-shop." he said finally.

Peter put his hands on the hips in a skeptical manner. „How do you know that?" „It's the quality of the paper...and also the ink. It's very fine and dark there is no place where it's vanished. The paper on the other hand looks rather cheap – mass production I guess. No peculiar good quality but good enough." „Are you telling me that you can make up that this letter was printed in a copy-shop just because the ink is fine?" Peter asked unbelievingly.

He just couldn't imagine that to be true, even though he knew that the con was very talented. „Let me prove it to you..." Neal began working on his computer and only seconds later the agent heard the printer coming to life. Crooing it printed one single sheet. Neal stood up to get it and returned to the desk to inspect it in the light. „Have a look at this." Peter walked over to the consultants side and glanced at the freshly printed sheet. It was a copy of the internet page with the excerpt of the map on which Peter had checked the address only seconds ago.

„You see this?" Neal pointed on the last letters of the page which showed the URL of the internet page. „Actually..." Peter detected that these letters were of a slightly lighter color than the ones on top of the page. The ink was actually turning to a dark shade of grey. „The shells of printers need to be cleaned at times. Of course they need to be changed as well. In private households this doesn't happen regular enough to make the ink look perfect but-" „In Copy-shops they're being checked and maintained all the time." Peter finished the sentence. „Good job, Neal. That means we can cabin the search for our anonymous informant on copy-shops. The problem is just that there are far from a few of these shops in NYC. You also have a smart resolution for that?" He saw Neal hunching his shoulders. „Alright, it's at least a start."

Peter called for Diana. „Hey, could you call all copy-shops in – let's say – a distant of three kilometers and ask if someone printed one single sheet there today or yesterday? It is likely that he bought a simple envelope there as well." Diana stared at him in total confusion. „Copy-shops? One single printed sheet? What the-?" Peter understood that he would have to explain this strange order. „I'm trying to find out who's behind that mysterious informant." he said and gave her the letter. „Something is rotten in this case, Boss I'm sure about that." she said thoughtfully after briefly reading it. „That idea also crossed my mind..." Peter had to admit. „Fine, then I will start working on it." She left and was immediately taken over by Jones.

He held a flash drive up in his hand. „The recordings of the surveillance cams. This morning around 6 came a man who threw the letter directly into the mailbox. But don't hope for too much there's really not a lot to see." explained the junior Agent and handed the flash drive to Peter who inserted it into a slot at his computer. Neal and Jones stood beside him while he briefly winded the clip back on 6am and watched a man approaching to the camera.

He was wearing a black Jacket, leather-gloves and some kind of a black cowboy-hat, which he had drown deep down his face what made it impossible to see the upper part of his face including the eyes. He froze the picture. „One thing I know for serious: He's not doing something like that for the first time. You see how he's avoiding the camera? He's turning the head in another direction." Peter said with an unsatisfied expression on his face. „I like the hat." Neal interposed with one if his typical tooth-paste-advertisement-smiles. Peter ignored him and continued to concentrate on the black figure on the screen. The man was not very tall but broad-shouldered in an unusual way with the dark jacket stretching tense around his upper body.

A few minutes later Peter leaned back in his chair sighing. „No...I fear that this isn't gonna be of much use for our work." he had to admit in disappointment. „Let's just wait what Diana will find out...we have to find somewhere to begin with the investigation. It can't be that hard." frustrated he glanced at the pile of documents in front of him which Maddock had caused.


	6. Chapter 6

„Neal, have you found something interesting in these while you read them last night?" Neal put his hands into the pockets of his suit coat and told that he believed Maddock to be a man with several identities and accomplices. „I can imagine that he's sending anonymous people like this infomant to agencies in order to convince them of the given information and make them follow a false trail so that Maddock can deal with his buisnesses in the underground and without having to fear beeing caught by the FBI which is searching for him elsewhere." Peter nodded slowly. „That idea did also cross my mind...something is wrong about this guy and also the letter. Which advantage would he gain from putting Maddock in jeopardy?" He thought about it for a moment until he had a plan. „I'm going to call the collegues in Sacramento and Boston that couldn't put Maddock in prison either. Maybe we'll find parallels in his methods..." Neal gave a very sceptical sounding „Hmm.." which was getting on Peter's nerves because he had to fight back another strong wave of tiredness. „What is it?" he asked impatiently. „I guess Maddock is way too smart to use the same method several times." „And you say that because you know him so well, yeah? Every criminal makes a mistake time after time which turns out to be his fatality, something you should know very well." Okay that remark was a bit cruel, the agent was aware of that. But Neal didn't seem to be offended and hunched his shoulders again. „Fine, if you want to waste your time, go ahead. I'm gonna go and get myself something to eat." he strolled out of the room. Peter was just about to seek the numbers of the FBI centrals in Sacramento and Boston in his little note-book when he realised that Jones was mustering him. „You need anything, Clinton?" „Is everything alright Boss? You're looking pretty worn out. Are there any problems?" Peter understood that his younger collegue was risking a careful thrust into his privat-life. But he wasn't angry about it. „No, everything's ok, just didn't sleep well last night...and Caffrey's really getting on my nerves today!" Jones grinned in relief. „Wow, that's news!" he chuckled. „Maybe you could go and help Diana out, I fear she has to phone around a lot." Jones nodded and left Peter alone in his office. He massaged his temples for a while which used to ease him and grabbed the phone.


End file.
